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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28720239">House</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/IvoryRaven/pseuds/IvoryRaven'>IvoryRaven</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Riddle Collection [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Orphanage, Tom is like twelve, Wool's Orphanage (Harry Potter), Young Tom Riddle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:07:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>511</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28720239</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/IvoryRaven/pseuds/IvoryRaven</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom Riddle is bored, and gets roped into playing House with Amy Benson and some other kids.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Riddle Collection [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2105865</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>House</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>From a Discord prompt</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tom Marvolo Riddle was bored.</p><p>He had read every single book he could get his hands on, including three he had filched from a bookshop, one he’d taken off an old lady’s handbag at the station, and several he’d secretly borrowed from other children. All of them cover to cover, even the boring ones.</p><p>He’d done all his homework, and then done it again just to be sure. He’d practiced his wandless magic and finally figured out how to make specific spells work without a wand. Nobody from the Ministry had come to arrest him, so surely they hadn’t noticed?</p><p>They never had when he was little.</p><p>And so, when Amy Benson, looking just as bored as he was, asked “D’you wanna play House?” instead of making her run away in fear like he would’ve before blasted Dumbledore’d gone and threatened him, he curled his hands in so tight his fingernails started cutting into his palms, resigned himself to this being the most interesting thing to happen in the entire week, and stood up.</p><p>“Yes, Amy, I do want to play House.”</p><p>Her eyes widened. “You - you sure?”</p><p>“Course I’m sure. Wouldn’t’ve said yes if I wasn’t.”</p><p>“Oi! You lot!” Amy shouted across the yard. “Riddle says ‘e’ll play!”</p><p>“You’re pulling my leg!” shouted back a seven-year-old girl who Tom vaguely remembered being called Hattie. She’d arrived - oh, about three years ago. “He never does anything with anyone!”</p><p>“Am not! Riddle, tell her I’m not lyin’?”</p><p>He started trudging towards Hattie and a small cluster of others, Amy following at his heels like a rat scuttling after a bit of stale bread. “Stop making a scene,” he muttered.</p><p>“That’s kinda the whole point,” she replied, and he begrudgingly admitted she was right.</p><p>“I said yes,” he told Hattie when they reached the group.</p><p>“Sweet!” said Jack, who had just turned thirteen. Tom remembered him making a big fuss of his birthday and showing off some stuff he’d nabbed from the shops after weedling at Miss Martha to be allowed to go. “We have our Mrs. Cole, then.”</p><p>“Hold on, what?” Tom asked.</p><p>Amy gave him a crooked smile. “Congratulations, Riddle, you’re playing Mrs. Cole.”</p><p>“That was not the agreement!” he protested.</p><p>“Then go back to your tree,” said Jack, folding his arms over his chest. “You’re lucky you even got asked.”</p><p>“They ask’d e-ev’wyone ews fiwst!” said little Audrey.</p><p>“I see,” sneered Tom. “Fine.”</p><p>“Ight then.” Amy coughed. “Audrey’s the baby, obviously-”</p><p>“Am a baby in weal life!” said the child.</p><p>Amy shook her head. “You’re five, Audrey. That’s not a baby. Anyway, me and Edna and Mary and Jack and Hattie are kids, and Riddle, you’re Mrs. Cole.” </p><p>“We stawt?” asked Audrey. “Goo goo goo! I can’t tawk because I am a weally small baby.”</p><p>Amy smiled that truly evil smile again. “The baby is crying, Mrs. Cole.”</p><p>Tom mimed drinking from the whiskey bottle Mrs. Cole often carried with her. “Amy, be a dear and close the door?” Then, in a loud whisper - “they always cry, the annoying brats.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading!</p><p>~ivory</p></blockquote></div></div>
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